I'll Tell You Today
by The Inamorata
Summary: [RenjiRuki Oneshot] When should I tell you? Tomorrow? Today? The days are slipping away. Will I miss my chance? Will it be too late?


Author's Note: This is a cute little RenjiRuki Oneshot I whipped up. YES I AM PROCRASTINATING ON WRITING SHINIGAMI ALCHEMIST AND WRITING RANDOM THINGS LIKE THIS HELP ME FEEL BETTER. Well I hope you like it. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. If I did, Orihime would be dead by now.

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I will try to tell her today_.

He promises himself the same thing.

Over and over.

Every day.

But to no avail.

Each day there's another excuse.

I have too much work to do, too much paperwork that needs signing, too many swords to polish.

Yet he could not polish his own sword, which pierced through his stomach every time he saw her.

If she happened to be walking by, he would manage to slip away.

He avoided her like the plague, but his mind didn't.

He was always dwelling on the thoughts of her; how she walked, how she talked, how she looked.

He would take the long way home at night just to pass her window, his hopes high that she would walk right by it at just the right moment.

It had happened once or twice, but he had fled all too soon.

So soon that he didn't manage to catch a glimpse of her piercing black eyes or jet black hair.

So quickly that he would disappear with the wind, and if she happened to look outside at that precise moment, all she would see would be the flutter of leaves.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Live. Breathe. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Sleep. Repeat. Live. Breathe. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Sleep. Repeat.

His life was a rhythmic pattern.

Every day he would see her, every day he did nothing.

Every day he longed to tell her, every day he had somewhere else to be, something else to do.

The days and weeks and months and years passed, but nothing changed.

They did not age, and he thought he had all the time he needed.

I can do it tomorrow, it will be no different from today.

That's all he told himself.

Tomorrow.

But with every passing day, the once inseparable friends grew further and further apart.

She made knew friends, as did he.

They got busier and busier, each and every day.

They stopped seeing each other as often, and he wouldn't see her for days at a time.

Sometimes he wondered if it could ever be; isn't this a job that doesn't end until death?

He didn't know, he didn't care.

As long as they weren't separated, it didn't matter.

But in truth, he was worried.

No, they did not age, but that didn't mean they could not die.

What if something happened to her? To him?

What if he missed his chance?

And then she would never know. She wouldn't know how he felt.

What if she felt the same way, but thought he didn't feel that way about her?

What if that were true, but she gave up?

All because of his cowardice, she would find someone else.

And he would be alone. She had settled. Maybe she could. But he could not.

Nothing but her could mend the hole he had in his heart.

He longed for her, he knew he could make her happy, and that she could do the same for him.

But what if she didn't know that?

What if the idea would shock her, take her by surprise?

What if it scared her, made her despise him?

Was it a risk worth taking?

It was, but he was scared.

He didn't know what he was scared of, though.

Scared of her reaction? Scared of the reactions of others?

What would the others think? What would _she_ think?

That it was stupid? That _he_ was stupid?

And in this world where they did not age, these sort of things would never be forgotten.

What _that_ a risk worth taking?

Apparently it was. He believed that this was the time.

It was his choice.

He dropped the pen mid sentence and stood, walking out the door.

The voices calling him back fell onto deaf ears.

He could only hear he own breathing, the beating of his footsteps matching his heart.

He felt an odd numbness rush over him, a feeling of red warmth flood into his cheeks as he burst in and demanded to see her.

It was as if he was not himself, as if there was someone else inside his body and he was just watching from above.

The feeling he felt, as if he couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

But then he saw her graceful form emerge from the doorway, and he couldn't help but regain his courage.

The puzzled look on her face told him that she expected something from him now. He felt like running, but he knew the only way was to tell her now.

He had made his choice and there was no turning back.

He swallowed his gut and too a deep breath.

_Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. _

His heard was beating quickly, increasing speed with every step she took towards him.

And when she reached him, she stopped, looking up into his face.

She looked like the beautiful girl he tried to see everyday, and he knew that she was the perfect girl for him.

The one and only one that he wanted. And he wouldn't live without her.

"What are you doing here, Renji?"

"I have something to tell you… Rukia."


End file.
